


Loyalty

by dianano



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 01:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianano/pseuds/dianano
Summary: While on a mission to prove himself to Section 31 and Control, Captain Leland is accosted by a face he never thought he'd see again.





	Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kakushigo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kakushigo/gifts).



> Because my friends are a bunch of shameless enablers, my first Disco fic is... this. I also elect to blame the dear Kakushigo for making me a diehard Piland shipper, and very much hope they don't kill Leland off.
> 
> (Leland's name and the details of his relationship with Chris is from Deca and my headcanons.)

He wakes up in a hotel room on Starbase 9 and gets to work. The padd he reviews over breakfast make his orders clear and bland as can be- blend into a crowd and intercept the Tellarite diplomat. Inject her with a lactic acid hypo to make her seek medical treatment, and the rest of the team will take it from there.

 

It strikes him, briefly, that it’s weird that he’s had no contact with the rest of the team, but he shrugs it off. What Control wants, Control gets, and that includes captains doing mundane missions on its whims.

 

He pauses for a moment after a shower to observe himself in the mirror. And much as he hates to admit it, he’s kinda getting old. There are gray flecks in his beard and his back aches. Perhaps it’s time to start looking into getting a flag officer position back at HQ. He has no significant fondness for her, but his XO is primed to get a ship of her own and he’d hate for her to get it by virtue of a “disagreement” that ends with a blade in his chest.

 

At 0900, he’s off to the shuttleports to wait for the diplomat’s arrival. The Tellarite isn't supposed to be here until 10, but Leland prefers a second cup of coffee in the mornings and uses the opportunity to scout out the turf. One of the absolutely miniscule perks of Section 31 is that the new IDs have fresh replicator rations every mission. So he usually gets a second cup of coffee in return for the occasional assassination or two.

 

The problem of the hour, however, is that a few Starfleet ships seem to have docked this morning for shore leave, so the terminal is jam-packed with candy-colored, self-righteous officers ready to get off to wherever they’re going. And his black leather sticks out like a sore thumb. Ah well, he can always shed a layer and use his Trill projector. In the meantime, he’s spotted a replicator without an obscenely long line and starts heading for that.

 

Well, he’s _starting_ to head for that when there’s a massive commotion behind him and some yelling that makes him freeze in place.

 

From directly behind him, across the port to the doors that denote the USS Enterprise has just completed docki-

 

**Oh.**

 

-Docking, there’s a long path of crewmen getting absolutely mowed down by a man in a goldenrod uniform. And he’s yelling at- well, in his report Leland will say that he’s yelling in Leland’s direction. But he is yelling at Leland. Screaming, really.

 

“Lee!” he cries, and Leland is still frozen in place. “Lucas! Lucas, it’s me!”

 

He gets closer, and Leland snaps out of it. Feigns confusion and turns back around into the crowd. But the man is persistent. Keeps catching up to him faster than Leland can get away into the crowd. But by the time the officer reaches him, grabs his shoulders and holds on, Leland feels calm enough in his cover to turn around and look him in the eye.

 

And oh, Chris, he’s trying.

 

It’s been almost 5 years since they last spoke, his mind helpfully volunteers. And that time has been kinder to Christopher Pike than it has been to Leland, which he’s okay with. A cursory glance that could easily be passed off for a ‘who are you?’ shows that Chris finally embraced his graying hair. Days before Leland up and left again, he’d been pouting at the mirror, stressing over a few white strands. Now, with those muscles that still show through his uniform, and a new braid on his wrists, Leland can confirm that Chris looks _good_.

 

(No ring though, his mind also notes with a twinge.)

 

“Lucas,” Chris sobs out and buries his head in Leland’s shoulder. This hurts. This hurts like hell. Chris’ sweet gray eyes are starting to turn red and he’s sniffling, bordering on tears. It would be out of character for him to do any more than give Chris- _the officer_ a stiff, confused pat on the back, so he does the best he can.

 

“I’m sorry sir,” Leland says. “You must have me confused for someone else.”

 

That pulls another desperate cry out of Chris, and he wraps a hand around Leland’s waist. It’s almost like they’re slow-dancing, if you can slow-dance while people rubberneck their captain’s very public breakdown.

 

“No,” Chris shakes his head, still buried in Leland’s shoulder. “No, no, you’re- you’re Lucas Leland. You’re a Starfleet officer, you’re my _husband_.”

 

The way he says it, insistently, almost tenderly, makes Leland want to break all over again. But Chris isn’t done- still clutching Leland so close, so warm, he whispers in his ear.

 

“The Enterprise is docked right here. I can get you out of Section 31. I’ll do anything.”

 

Of course Leland wants to say yes. Drop the disguise and go back to his husband. Chris is begging him to. The thoughts of all the things they’d talked about together, a life they could have, it all seems so close when he holds Chris in his arms.

 

But there’s one screaming problem. Chris whispered all of this in his left ear, into his mic. The one his supervisors are listening to right now. There’s no way that either of them would make it out of Starbase 9 alive. So it’s time to do what he does best- break hearts.

 

“Section 31? Lucas?” He puts on his best ‘confused civilian’ face. “My name is Matt Jones, Captain. Do you need help?”

 

People are all too willing to help the Starfleet brass. Captains are pretty faces, patriotic, and just battle-hardened enough to make it look good. They always, as Leland started observing when he married one, attract a lot of admirers, platonic or otherwise.

 

But Chris takes a different message from Leland’s wide-eyed indifference. He scours Leland’s face for anything to validate his hopes, but Leland’s too good a liar for that. Always was. So instead he sees Chris’s heart break again in graphic detail.

 

“They made you forget me,” he declares shakily, whispering. And he touches the scar marks on Leland’s head with an air of wonder and sorrow. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I-”

 

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Leland cuts him off briskly. Better not to go down the road of Chris getting sad and sappy and apologizing for things he didn’t do. Leland got plenty of that in his voicemails after he left. “It’ll be okay, Captain. We’ll find your… Lucas, you said?”

 

“Lucas Layton Leland,” Chris says in a daze, only now starting to notice the people watching their captain pour his heart out to a stranger. Leland tugs him along towards the replicator he was headed for in the first place, and Chris follows unquestioningly. “Missing for the past four-n’-three-quarters years, legally dead for the past week.” Leland wishes he could say he was surprised, when in reality he’d spent the moment of his legal death watching the clock and drinking. “So my… ex-husband, I suppose. But I still love y-him.” (Ouch.) “Never gave up.” (Double ouch.)

 

“That must be hard,” Leland says with an air of distant sympathy. He gave Chris an awkward hand squeeze. “I must look just like him.” What he wouldn’t give to have worn his holoprojectors today.

 

“The splitting image.” Chris’s voice is so sad and longing, and he reaches out to graze a hand against Leland’s face. They both shudder- Chris from the touch, and Leland at seeing the tan line where a wedding ring used to be on Chris’s hand. “Little grayer, little more tired, but… still so beautiful.

 

“I hope you find him, Captain.” He moves to push Chris’s hand away from his face (no stranger would be comfortable with that, really), and Chris pulls away with a start. He stares at Leland a little more, and Leland is honestly sure that Chris sees right through him.

 

“I regret what happened every day,” Chris whispers, staring at him. “I’m so sorry.” And it hits Leland- Chris thinks it’s not him, but he needs to get this off his chest. So he takes the opportunity to do the same.

 

“I’m sure he knows,” he tells Chris calmly. “And would say it’s not your fault.” He pats Chris firmly on the shoulder, more than he would as Leland, and it makes Chris jump. “I have a shuttle to catch, but you take care.”

 

“T-thanks, Matthew,” Chris says. He still looks so… longing. He hasn’t said goodbye to Leland in his heart, and it shows. “I’m sorry, I just-” He moves in again, shakily pressing his hands against Leland’s omnipresent stubble, and kisses him gently on the cheek. Leland can hardly fault him there. “Sorry. Take care.”

 

There’s not much more to be said or done, so Leland spins on his heel and heads for the other exit. The altercation with the diplomat will have to happen somewhere else, because he can still feel Chris’s eyes on him all the way out the door.

 

* * *

 

_[Fwd: Adm. Patar - > Cpt. Leland] _

 

_Admiral Cornwell and members of the Sector 4 Supervisory Committee,_

 

_I would like to formally apologize for my conduct on shore leave this morning at approximately 0900 hours. As the security footage shows, I accosted a civilian in the Starbase 9 docking terminal and caused minor injuries to several of the officers onboard the Enterprise. I recognize that my conduct was unacceptable, but I would like to establish my account of the events._

 

_While disembarking from the Enterprise to take a few hours’ leave before overseeing the restock onboard, I noticed a man who bore a striking resemblance to my ex-husband, Commander Lucas Leland. I had been emotionally compromised for the past week, as on Stardate 1895.03 Commander Leland had been missing for four Terran years and nine months, therefore making him legally dead and our marriage dissolved. My therapist’s notes, attached, can attest that I have been distracted, prone to emotional outbursts, and sleep-deprived. From my own perspective, I had not believed Commander Leland to be deceased, so the finality of his disappearance took an emotional toll on me. While this does not excuse my behavior, I can only hope that it helps to explain it._

 

_I have made a formal apology to all of the crewmembers injured in my outburst, have handed over command of the Enterprise to Commander One, and have taken a week’s medical leave on a mental health basis while I await the Committee’s findings. Once again, I sincerely apologize for the harm I have done to the people in my command, Mr. Jones, and for the damage I have done to the reputation of Starfleet, and I accept the Committee’s disciplinary measures._

 

_\- Captain Christopher Pike, USS Enterprise NCC-1701_

 

* * *

 

He thinks about writing Chris a message, later that night. Maybe a time, place, somewhere to meet up. Or better yet, taking a look at the Enterprise’s schedules, seeing when he’s back in his quarters, and surprising him. Now that he can picture. Chris comes in, jacket already half-off before he notices Leland sitting on his couch. Chris cries, Leland apologizes, they spend a night tangled up together in bed. Leland is gone by morning.

 

(Or, as his mind continues to betray him, he sits humbly on Chris’s couch, ready to make a heartfelt apology, and Chris stumbles in with another man. Or a woman, perhaps, that he can be sweet and charming to and have a family with. Nobody who will leave him alone and heartbroken like Leland did.)

 

He shrugs that one off and reaches for the padd. Chris wasn’t wrong when he said that he was declared legally dead just a few days ago. And if he knows his ex-husband, Chris is still mopey about it. Which he feels bad for, of course, but it’s useful here too.

 

...And if he goes thinking about how sad Chris is, he’s gonna come running into his arms all too fast.

 

So he reaches for the padd, for real this time. Types in his access code (2251nov10, pure coincidence that it’s their wedding anniversary), and is about to go peeking around for Chris’ schedule when his hand stings. That’s weird. He tries again. It stings, harder this time. Did he get some of the lactic acid on himself? Maybe that’s it, and that particular hand movement is what activates it. He goes back a page and… nothing.

 

Then everything goes cold and dark.

 

* * *

  

“Simulation complete,” he hears the computer’s voice over the constant hum of the engine. “Remove your implant connectors.”

 

Leland groans and relaxes into his pillow. Control’s loyalty test sims always left him with a headache, and this one was worse than usual.

 

“Remove your implant connectors.”

 

He detaches the electrodes from over the scars on his skull. “Computer, determine location of USS Enterprise.”

 

“USS Enterprise has been docked at Starbase 9 for two days. The Starbase is approximately 20 light years away in opposite heading.”

 

That’s why Control put it in the sim. Checking on Chris has been his guilty pleasure for a long while now, it only figures that the AI’s picked it up too. And getting better at tempting him, pulling on his heartstrings. Maybe next time it’ll make the temptation even more real, have Chris whisper in the right ear. He might even be inclined to be disloyal.

 


End file.
